


Rejoice! Rejoice! And Fall to Your Knees

by TrickyStump



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Add more tags as i add more chapters, Based off of From Now We Are Enemies, Has a sad back story but gets better, I promise, M/M, Patrick has an over protective and strict mother, Patrick is the crowned prince of Trickia, Patrick is the prine, Pet is from Decaya, Pete is a knight, Romeo and Juliet inspired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 18:47:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12114927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrickyStump/pseuds/TrickyStump
Summary: Patrick is the prince of Trickia and is stuck in his castle since his mother doesn't want him going out; she wants to just keep him safe because Patrick's older brother died when he was ten and Patrick was six because of a wolf attack, and by doing so becomes an overly protective and strict mother, so he's locked in his room most of the time and every night he goes out onto his balcony and sings cause he thinks no one can hear him. but someone can hear him, its Pete (romeo, sort of) who is a knight from the neighboring kingdom, actually one of the best knights in all the land, who listens to him night after night until one day he writes something that he's just dying to hear the prince sing so he slips it under his door and continues to do so for months until Patrick finally finds out it has been Pete all along. Patrick's worst fear is just "being the ghost of nothing" and not being remembered for anything but except being the king; he doesn't want to be the king, all he wants is to sing and marry Pete.From Now We are Enemies was written by Pete for Patrick to sing, and its about how patrick wants to be better than his mom, how he's been under all this pressure before he had "a birthday with double digits".





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Patrick and Pete don't die, but this was inspired by Romeo and Juliet some what, but mostly From Now We are Enemies. Sorry if it's confusing!

"Will you pass me the salt, dear?" a shrill voice asked.

"Sure, Mother," Patrick mumbled, passing the salt.

"Dear, is something the matter?"

"No, there's nothing Mother." /Not anything new, at least/ Patrick thought.

Patrick was sitting at the long, wooden table of the dining room. He was sitting next to his mother, a frail old woman with long graying hair that was always pulled back into a braid. 

"Are you sure?"

"Well..." Patrick was going to ask the same question he always had, but decided not to 

"What is it, dear?"

/Damn it!" Patrick scolded himself. He was already in too deep, his mother wouldn't let him just forget what he was going to say. "Well... I was wondering if I could finally get out of the palace?" 

"Why? Is it not good enough for you here? You have everything you could possibly ever want: a house, actually a castle, with servants to tend to your every need! For God's sake, you're the prince!"

Patrick /knew/ he shouldn't have said anything, he knew it, but he couldn't help himself. "But, Mother, I-"

"The answer, as usual, is NO! Now go to your room!" the queen yelled at her son.

"Yes, Mother," Patrick replied, pushing in his chair and doing as he was told. When he reached his room at the very top of the South tower, after limping up the stairs accompanied by a guard, he slammed the door.

Patrick knew he was the prince, God forbid his mother ever let him forget it. He was the crowned prince of Tricksta, now that his brother was gone... but Patrick hated it here.

"Why won't she just let me leave?" Patrick said out loud to himself, propped up against the side of his King's sized bed, made with fluffy white pillows and blankets.

It didn't used to be this way, once he had had a mother who treated him with compassion and love and let him run wild. He could explore, be a kid, but now he couldn't even leave the palace grounds.

"Just because Johnny got hurt, doesn't mean I will!" Patrick yelled out loud, but not loud enough for anyone to actually hear him.

When Patrick was six, he had a brother who was about ten, four years older than him. He was the original prince, the first born son, the one meant for the crown, but one day tragedy struck. Johnny, his brother, and Patrick had been playing outside near the river, when a wolf had crossed their path. The boys were chased and screamed until they met the river, cornered between it and the beast, still screaming, the wolf pounced on the boys, knocking   
him into the cold, rushing water.

"Johnny!" Patrick had called out, grabbing for his older brother's hand but missing by a hair.

The wolf then bit deep into Patrick's leg, drawing blood and another wail from the boy, but then the wolf winced back in pain. Some guards had heard the boys and came to their rescue, bombarding the wild beast with afros and rocks from sling shots. It eventually retreated into the woods to nurse it's wounds. 

A guard had carried Patrick back to the castle, his mother and father, Queen Patricia and King David, bewildered and in a panic.

"Where is prince John?" his father demanded of the guard.

"He fell into the river, your Majesty, the others are searching for him," the man answered his king.

His father had lead a search party for the next week to find his oldest son, but sadly when they did, it was too late. His father had been so furious, full of so much grief he had left the rest of his family to find the wolf, by himself, and never returned.

Patrick, now sitting his head in his hands, thought back to it, and started crying.  
A few short minutes after, his mother glided through his door without so much as a knock. "Son, I know you're upset, but it's for your own good, I promise," the queen explained, sitting down on the edge of Patrick's bed and tussling his hair.

Patrick pulled away from her. "But why, at the very least, must I have a guard accompany me EVERYWHERE?!" Patrick inquired.

"You know why! You know that, had you and your brother been in the company of at least one guard, that faithful day, he as well as your father would still be here!"

"Mother, you can't keep me locked up here for my entire life! I want to go places, see the world, not be here, all day, every day, moping about since there is nothing else to do!"

"Patrick! It is for your own safety," his mother said, but all Patrick could do was shake his head, "now, I know I've always been a broken record about this, but it's true, all of this is for your well being, for one day, you will be king."

Patrick was fuming. He as quietly and calmly as he could, said to his mother, "But what if I don't /want/ to be king?"

He watched as Queen Patricia's expression went calm, too scary of a calm for Patrick, he had never seen this look upon his mother's face.

"I am going to pretend you /didn't/ just say that to me," she said in a monotone voice and then changed the topic. "Darling, we have a visitor, so clean yourself up, wipe away your tears, and get ready to meet them. Be out in the throne room in fifteen minutes."

"Who is this visitor?" Patrick cocked an eyebrow.

"You will find out who he is shortly enough, just get ready!" his mother snapped. She collected herself and her dress, then strutted out of Patrick's room in silence, closing the door.

/He?/ Patrick thought. 

***

Patrick made his way down the stairs, one step at a time, careful not to put too much pressure on his lame leg. As he walked into the throne room, he glanced at his mother, wearing her crown and refusing to make eye contact with the prince. He sat in his seat, to the right of the queen, and waited patiently as a squire placed his crown on his head.

Suddenly, the trumpets sounded and the mighty doors opened, slowly. A short, yet still taller than Patrick, manmade his way through the doors. He was wearing a full armored suit made of gold, his helmet off. Even from such a far away distance, Patrick could see the man's piercing dark eyes, almost black as the night. Patrick become intrigued and it showed He lifted his head from his chest and his mother gave him a smug grin as if to say /you're in for a surprise/.

The man finally reached the royals, bowing. "Greetings, your Majesty Queen Patricia and his royal highness, Prince Patrick. I am Sir Pete Wentz of Decaya, your neighboring kingdom," the knight introduced himself.

"Hello, young knight, what an honor to meet you," the queen stated. Patrick continued staring at Pete. He was even more amazing up close. He had chiseled features; a sharp jaw line, a button nose, and smooth lips. Pete reached his hand up to smooth long, shaggy black hair, which made Patrick melt like a pad of butter.

Queen Patricia nugged her son, who came out of his daze immediately and said, "Yes, is an honor to meet you, Sir Wentz." Patrick then turned to his mother and whispered, "If you don't mind me asking, why is a knight from Decaya here?"

"Son, it is rude to not include everyone present in the conversation," his mother said quite loudly.

Patrick blushed. "I'm sorry, good knight, I was asking my mother as to why you are visiting us, but I most definitely should have asked you. My apologies."

"'Tis fine, my lord,. To answer your question, I am here to apprentice and serve under you, to protect and fight for you."

Patrick was stunned. He turned to his mother. "Mother?"

The old woman grinned at him. "Yes, Patrick, Sir Wentz will be your assigned guard and knight, so you shall no longer have need to worry about who will be posted with you."

Patrick turned to Pete and looked him up and down. /Maybe having to be accompanied by a guard 24/7 will not be such a bad thing after all/ Patrick tried to convince himself.


	2. I Thought it Was My Mother Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically Patrick gets hurt and Pete saves him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lookie here! Ya boi actually updated? What? Weird, i know. Any who, tell me in the comments if you have any ideas for the next chapter, and I'll try to update more often- but no promises because school is unpredictable

Patrick sighed, resting his head in his hands, the sun giving him a headache. /This is why I don't go outside/ he thought. He was sitting in the grass in the courtyard, under the shade of an apple tree. The notebook in his lap, full of random phrases and lyrics he's thought of, staring him back in the face.

Sir Wentz was about ten feet away, standing dutifully with perfect posture, posted at the back entrance to the castle.

Patrick looked up to gaze at the knight, who's already dark skin seemed to be getting tanner by the minute out here on this bright day. Sir Wentz turned his head slightly over to watch the prince, who ducked his head back down before the man noticed him staring.

All he wanted to do was talk to his guard; have a casual conversation. But alas, Sir Wentz was all too serious about his job. He only spoke when spoken to, and always stayed on business topics. Patrick didn't know anything about him. He only knew his name: Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III, which he only knew because he heard one of the maids yelling at him because of something scandalous he had done. Apparently, Pete was serious only around Patrick. He seemed to live a double life: strict, serious working Sir Wentz, and a clever, goofy boy named Pete.

Patrick was lost in thought about the knight, who was looking off into the distance, when he didn't even notice a loud /crack!/ from above him. He felt something heavy give a hard blow to the top of his head and weigh him down. The last thing he saw before he was knocked out was Pete full on sprinting toward him.

***

"YOUR HIGHNESS!" Pete yelled at the prince.

His heart dropped as he watched a thick branch from a tree fall upon Patrick. He began running as fast as he could to where the boy was. When he arrived, he used all of his strength and brute force to lift the wood off of Patrick.

"Oh God, oh God! Please let him be okay!" Pete whispered under his ragged breath, tired from lifting the branch.

He lifted Patrick up and rested him against the tree trunk, and put his hand to his jest. He felt the gentle rising and falling of his ribs and was relieved. He wiped sweat from his brow and immediately tried to get the passed out boy to come to.

"Your Highness," Pete said. No response. "Your HIGHNESS," he said again, louder. Still, no response. "YOUR. HIGHNESS!" he full out yelled, to no avail. Finally, with his heart racing and anxiety building, he screamed, "PATRICK!!!"

The strawberry blond fluttered open his eyes. Pete was able to relax once again, and almost hugged Patrick, but he didn't. /That would be unprofessional/ he told himself.

Patrick was still in a daze and looked up to see Sir Wentz above him, grasping his shoulders almost painfully, but he didn't mind; Pete was holding him, supporting him, he was touching him and that's something Patrick has always wanted, was to be touched by Pete.

"What... What ha-happened?" Patrick stuttered out.

"Patr-," Pete stopped himself and started over, "I mean... Your Highness, a branch from this tree fell on top of you and you were knocked out."

Patrick looked to his side and saw the huge piece of wood that had fallen on him. /Did Pete lift that all by himself?/

"Oh," he started to say. "I thought it was-" Patrick cut himself off before he could finish his sentence. He was about to say he thought it had been his mother again, but decided not to tell his crush that he was basically being abused my the most important person in the country: the queen. "Ne-never mind..."

Pete looked upset, almost worried, and Patrick couldn't tel why, besides the fact that he almost just died... it just felt more than needed to Patrick, it was almost unsettling.

"Are you okay, sir?" The knight asked him.

"Yes, I'm fine," Patrick replied.

"Are you sure, your Highness?" God Patrick hated how formal they both had be.

Patrick tried to stand by himself, and Pete let go of him, not realizing how hard he had been gripping him. At first, he felt fine, but then the prince began feeling dizzy and a sharp pain ripped through his right leg. He then basically fell into Sir Wentz's arms.

"I'll take that as a 'no', Sir. Here, lean on me, I'll support you on the way to to your room," Pete told Patrick.

"I really am fine-"

"No, your not," Pete interjected, suddenly blushing at his disrespect. "My apologies, your Highness! I did not intend to interrupt you, I should have let you finish."

"You're quite alright, Sir Wentz. Please, just get me to my bed," Patrick almost begged, because he wasn't letting Pete know, but he was in much pain. He thinks he may have broken his leg. It was in an odd position when he was hit and so the pressure might have pushed it the wrong way.

Pete carried the prince all the way to his chamber, up five flights of stairs, and finally lifted Patrick up and onto the bed, and at this point Patrick leg was throbbing so hard and causing so much pain that he proceeded to pass out again.

***

When Patrick awoke once more, he was stripped to his undergarments and a doctor was twisting and bending and prodding at his leg. His head ached like a son of a bitch, too.

"AHHH!" he screamed in pain.

"He's up!" the man yelled, and rushing in came the queen, three maids, and last, Pete.

"Thank goodness you're alright Patrick!" his mother exclaimed.

Patrick didn't say anything, all he did was look over at Pete and then throw back his head and close his eyed in part from pain but mostly in frustration. /So NOW his mother wanted to act like she actually cared about him./ He zoned out, listening to the muffled sounds of the queen rambling on about how relieved she was and feeling her arms around him, showering him with kisses. Patrick could bet you money that the moment everyone leaves and he is once again alone with his mother, she's going to change her tone. She'll most likely chastise him for not being more aware if his surroundings, almost giving her a heart attack, etc., and then pound him on the arm a dozen times.

The doctor moved Patrick's leg again and he winced in agony. "Is it broken?" he asked.

"No," the man answered in an deep, crackly voice, "but it'll be sore for a few days." The whistle his two front teeth made every time he said a word with the letter "S" in it made Patrick's head pound. "Young prince, you are quite lucky you did not sustain more damage, I'd say it's a miracle I would! Why, if this young man hadn't been there," he gestured to Pete, who's already heated cheeks turned even more flushed, "and gotten you out from underneath that branch so quickly, i could be telling you completely different news."

The queen beamed at Sir Wentz and reached out both her hands to shake his large one. "Thank you, Sir Wentz, I could not tell you enough how grateful I am."

"Your Majesty, thank you for the gratitude, but the only thanks I need is t safety and well being of your son," Pete answered, humble and modest.

"You see now, son," Patrick's mother now turned her attention to her son, "this is exactly why we have guards." 

Patrick was blushing, and avoid all eye contact, even though he could feel Pete practically burning a hole right through him.

The doctor got up and left, ushering the other staff to leave with him so that the queen could have a few moments alone with her son. 

When the heavy oak door shut, Patrick's mother turned to him and yelled, "BOY, YOU ALMOST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK TODAY!"

/There it is/ Patrick thought, winning another bet with himself. He braced himself for the beating he was most likely about to endure.

***

That night, Patrick couldn't sleep. He stood up, supporting himself against the cold wall. His leg still hurting, and so did his busted lip and bruised arm from he and his mother's "conversation".  
As he limped worse than usual on his already lame leg, he made his way to the door of his balcony, which he swung open. Waiting for him was a chair and his notebook, which he grabbed as he sat on the furniture.

He flipped through the pages until he found the words that he most connected to at the moment. He turned and took in his view for the one millionth time in his life, and took a deep breath. He began to sing:

"/I don't know where your going but do you got room for one more troubled soul?

I don't know where I'm heading but I don't think I'm coming home,

And I said I'll check in tomorrow if I don't wake up dead,

This is the road to ruins, and we started at the end.../"

Patrick hung onto the last note, until he heard a rustling below him in the still night. He looked down, and he wasn't sure, but he thought he saw the color of gold glinting in the moonlight as it got smaller and smaller, and then was just gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And ideas for the next chapter? Please tell me in the comments I'm not that creative i swear


End file.
